


Weight

by yikess



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 22:50:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8263355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yikess/pseuds/yikess
Summary: It starts with small things, like Futakuchi gently taking his hand to pull him through a crowd at a theme park...then Futakuchi is tangling their ankles together casually under the lunch table and Futakuchi is ‘accidentally’ calling him Takanobu.
(T for two swears. AoFuta is good and pure, and this isn't very creative, but I wanted to write something.)





	

It starts with small things, like Futakuchi gently taking his hand to pull him through a crowd at a theme park, and Futakuchi placing a hand on his shoulder after he gets his Maths results back, and leaving it there a little longer than necessary. Then Futakuchi is tangling their ankles together casually under the lunch table and Futakuchi is ‘accidentally’ calling him Takanobu.

  
And Aone is laying in his bed at night, in a pitch black room, staring at nothing, and thinking about Futakuchi.

  
It’s not that Aone minds these slight changes. Futakuchi has been right by his side since their second year of junior high, and since then he’s only done right by Aone. He would never do anything truly mean to make fun of him. He wouldn’t purposefully do anything to make Aone feel this strange sensation in his gut when he thinks of him.

  
Sure, Futakuchi can be a dick sometimes, but he’s only 17 years old and he’s just kidding around. Well. Most of the time. If he is making Aone feel weird on purpose, he can’t think of a good reason why his friend would do it.

  
Aone falls asleep thinking about the feeling he gets when Futakuchi smiles at him.

  
*

“Let me take you to the door,” Futakuchi says, even though he always takes Aone to the door when he comes over for dinner.

  
Aone grunts in agreement. “Thank you for dinner,” he says quietly to Futakuchi’s mother.

  
She smiles at him from where she’s collecting the dishes from the table. Futakuchi and his mother have the same smile – wild and honest. “You’re welcome, any time. Thank you for putting up with Kenji for so long,” she says.

  
“ _Mum_ ,” Futakuchi groans. “C’mon Aone.”

  
Futakuchi wraps his fingers around his friend’s wrist and pulls him out into the hallway. Aone looks down at his hand. He wonders if the skin beneath Futakuchi’s fingers is red, because it feels like it’s burning.

  
When he lets go, Aone continues staring at his wrist. Nothing has changed.

  
“What?” Futakuchi growls, suddenly impatient.

Aone shakes his head, _nothing_ , and bends down to put his school shoes back on. All the shoes in the hallway are lined up neatly, apart from Futakuchi’s trainers and his one pair of formal shoes, which are in disarray beside the others.

“I’ll clean them later.” Aone’s been caught looking. He takes his time tying his shoelaces. Futakuchi seems a bit off; he’s shuffling his feet back and forth. And he won’t stop tapping his index finger on the wrist of his opposite hand. That’s one of his nervous tics, but Aone has been by his side almost the entire day, and hasn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary. “C’mon, BFG. You told your dad you’d be home by 9, right?”

He did say that. Aone’s grades have not been the strongest this semester, so his dad wants him to study more. He would study with Futakuchi, if he wasn’t so eager to get him out of his house.

Aone pulls his laces tight and rises to his full height. Futakuchi has already opened the door for him; he squeezes past, ducking under the doorframe and walking down the steps from the landing. He turns around to face Futakuchi again.

Futakuchi is standing awkwardly with one foot inside his house and the other on the step below. “See you in class tomorrow. Don’t forget to bring your History notes.”

Aone puts his hands in his pockets and hums. He wouldn’t forget something he promised Futakuchi.

“So. Bye.”

Aone doesn’t budge an inch. After years of friendship, Aone is fairly sure he can tell when Futakuchi wants to say something, but can’t find the words. He tilts his head a little in question.

“Figures,” Futakuchi snorts, stepping outside fully. “How do you do this shit?”

Aone blinks. As a man of few words himself, he would be ashamed if he couldn’t pick up on some basic nonverbal cues. “…You’re my friend,” is Aone’s simple answer, spoken softly into the silent evening.

Apparently, this was the wrong thing to say, as Futakuchi takes that half step back into his house.

“Friend, huh?” Futakuchi squints out at him.

Aone blinks.

“There’s only a year of High School left. You think we’ll still talk to each other? My brother, he…”

The rest of what Futakuchi is saying is drowned out by the roaring in Aone’s ears. Why is Futakuchi talking about not being friends anymore? Did he do something wrong at dinner? Has he not been improving fast enough in volleyball? Futakuchi had even gotten then those matching volleyball phone charms last week, what had happened since then?

“-ne? Aone? Ah fuck it.”

Aone is barely conscious of the soft pressure on his lips when it happens. It’s a combination of his instincts and his want for Futakuchi to be close to him, which leads him forward as the pressure starts to lighten.

This is his first kiss, so he has to make this up as he goes along. One hand comes up to rest on Futakuchi’s neck, and he uses it to tilt his head to the left and stop their noses from bumping against each other. He simply presses forward for a few seconds, then moves his lips, sucking Futakuchi’s bottom lip between his.

When Futakuchi lets out a tiny whimper, it’s like a lightbulb switches on in Aone’s head and he jerks back, almost pulling Futakuchi with him.

“Uh.” Futakuchi looks totally embarrassed and shell shocked, arms hanging limply at his sides, but even still, he manages to look…pretty, bathed in the fluorescent yellow glow of his hallway light. Futakuchi would probably hit him if he called him pretty to his face.

It would be worth it, though, to see the same pink flush spread over his cheekbones. I did that, Aone thinks.

“Why…” Futakuchi trails off, his mouth opening and closing, failing to produce any discernible words. This is a first, Futakuchi being lost for words. Usually, Futakuchi can go on for hours about the smallest thing that happened in class. And now, this is what Aone would like to think is a pretty big thing, and _nothing_.

Honestly, Aone should be the one asking the questions here. But just this one time, he is going to be the one to take the risk.

Aone takes a step back and steels himself. He bows at a seventy, maybe eighty degree angle and quickly blurts out, “Please be my boyfriend.”

Since he is looking down at Futakuchi’s slippered feet, he cannot see the other boy’s reaction. As the silence stretches on, Aone’s back starts to ache. _Maybe he didn’t hear me?_ Aone considers. He tries again, one more time can’t hurt. “Please…please will you-”

“Shut up!”

Aone snaps up at his friend’s yell. Futakuchi is covering his face with both hands and nodding vigorously. “Pick me up for school tomorrow,” he says, voice muffled behind his hands. “Bring me sour gummies as an apology.”

Aone is not sure what he needs to apologise for, but he’s happy that his friend is back to talking nonsense again. He’ll buy him the family size pack of cherry gummies, since those are his favourite.

“Text me when you get home, alright?” Aone nods. “And don’t stay up watching home renovation shows until 1 again, okay?” Aone doesn’t nod at this one. “Go on then.”

Aone takes a few steps backwards and bumps into the Futakuchis’ gate. He doesn’t really want to go anymore.

Futakuchi sighs. “7:50 sharp. It’s not that long.”

That’s only 11 hours. Aone can probably wait that long to kiss him again. Of course, he’ll think about how soft they are and how cold they were and how they were a little wet for the next 11 hours. But really, it’s not that long.

Futakuchi ends their silent standoff with another sigh. “I’ll go first then. Good night, Takanobu.”

“…Kenji.” It feels good to use Futakuchi’s first name. The two syllables, familiar even though he rarely uses them, feel like the most important thing he’s said all day.

“Shut up!” Futakuchi turns a nice shade of pink again. Cute. “I’m going to my room now, and you’re going home. Good night!”

He basically falls back into his house and slams the door shut, leaving Aone outside alone.

Aone stands there a while, mulling over the day he’s had. He thinks it’s the best day he’s had this year, even if a little girl did drop her candy after meeting his eyes.

“Go home!” Futakuchi yells out of a window directly above the front door. His fringe flutters in the autumn breeze. “You’ll get a cold if you stay out there too long.”

Even that, a vague warning, sets off that feeling in Aone. Maybe it really started the day he realised Futakuchi really cared.

Futakuchi laughs and grins dangerously. “If you don’t leave in 5 seconds, you have to get me two packs of gummies.”

(The next morning, Aone arrives with one pack of cherry sour gummies and one pack of apple sour gummies. Futakuchi’s mother confiscates them as soon as she hears the rustling of plastic packaging. Kenji complains about it the whole way to school. Aone holds his hand the whole way, and doesn’t mind at all.)

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
